Foxy's Awakening
by Fazza25
Summary: My name is Foxy. I woke up in this pizzaria this morning with no recollection of who i am. With the help of my new friends, Freddy, Chica, Bonnie, and a strange, Masked Man, maybe I can find out what I've forgotten. Or maybe I'll just learn to live with this new life. Who knows? Some Language, Some Romance, A little something for everyone.
1. Awake

"Hey. Wake up." My eyes opened lazily. "Hey." I felt a fast thump against my cheek, shocking me awake. A man dressed all in black crouched over me. His face was hidden from view by a white and purple mask.

"What?" I muttered.

"You're alive. Good. Here." The masked man rose to his full height and extended a hand.

I reached out for his hand, but stopped short when I saw that I had no hand. Instead, a rusty metal hook protruded from the end of my arm.

"What the . . ." I held my hands out in front of me. The fur that had covered my hand had torn and broken away, leaving only a metal skeleton in its place.

"Easy. Take my hand." I lowered my hook and raised my metal hand. The masked man pulled me to my feet. I staggered, but he clasped my shoulder, helping me steady my stance. Looking down at my body, I found that the fabric skin that covered me in rags, torn in various places, exposing bits of a metal skeleton beneath it.

The masked man studied me as I much as I did.

"Are you in pain?" He asked. I was too enamored in my search to care what he'd said. My left foot had become a large animal paw, complete with claws. My right foot was like my hand, rotten fabric and skeleton.

"Where am I?" My words slurred as my jaw unhinged, exploding in pain. Caught off-guard, I unleashed a quiet scream of agony.

"Calm yourself." The masked man stepped closer and placed a black hand on my face. With a quick jerk, my jaw snapped back into place. The pain grew intense, and then it was gone.

I rubbed my jaw and nodded. "Thanks."

"I know this is disorienting, and I know you have many questions. I will answer as many as I can, but we are short on time."

"Where am I? Who are you? Who am I?"

"Welcome to your first night at Freddy Fazbear's Pizzaria. Your name is Foxy. And I . . ." The man chuckled to himself. "I am your Savior."

"That's not exactly descriptive." I murmured.

He sighed. "Who I am, is not important. There is much to learn about yourself before you try to understand anyone else." The man glanced at his wrist, but I didn't see a watch.

"Why can't I remember anything?"

"I'm afraid we're out of time. Come with me."

"Hey. I asked you a question. Answer me."

"There are many things that you need to hear said in the few dark hours remaining, and that is not among them. There are a few people waiting for you in the front room. Go see them." He turned away from me and stepped off the stage.

"Wait." I shouted, reaching for the man, but he vanished in the darkness of the room. Behind where he'd been standing a moment before, a small curtain opened up, revealing a doorway. I took a moment to steady myself and leaped off the stage. I hit the carpeted aisle hard, my feet faltering beneath me. My legs gave way, and I fell forward, crashing into one of the six rows of seats in the theatre. I pushed myself up, unaware that my hook had caught in the chair. With a loud rip, the metal tore free. I stood for a moment, glaring at the large, cotton-filled gash. The sharp metal hook almost gleamed in the dark.

I exited through the door. The hallway was just as dark as my theatre, lit only by a few street lamps that poured in through small windows. I kept my hook behind me, as I walked, careful not to damage anything else in the area. The hallway opened up into a large dining room. Nearly a dozen tables sat end-to-end throughout the large room. At the front of the room, on a concert stage, three others were waiting. A large bear dressed with a little hat was standing at the edge of the stage, a microphone in its hands. Its eyes glanced around the room. Off to the left, a bright yellow chicken huddled down, holding its knees close to its chest. It too, had a microphone in her hand, though smaller than the bear's. The last animal was a dark purple rabbit leaning against the side wall of the stage. It held his head, as if trying to lessen a headache.

"Who are you?" The bear asked in a deep, authoritative voice. The chicken rose to its feet and stood behind the bear. The bunny showed no change.

I stepped closer to the stage. "Foxy, I think."

The chicken peeked out from her hiding spot. "You're one of us?" it asked. The voice was obviously feminine. "He looks like a Fox."

"He _looks_ terrible." The bear tilted his head, inspecting me. Looking down at my body, I suddenly felt ashamed at my disheveled appearance. I tugged at the scraps of fabric that once acted as my skin.

"My name is Freddy." The bear said. He motioned toward the chicken. "And this is Chica." She waved shyly. "And that train-wreck," he nodded to the bunny, "Is Bonnie."

"Are you guys new here too?" I asked.

"Yeah," Freddy said. "We just woke up like an hour ago."

I nodded. "Was there a strange man in black with you?"

"Yeah, we saw him too."

"Talking about me?" I turned fast. The man was standing behind me, just out of arms reach. I hadn't heard him approach.

I nodded, though I felt he knew already.

"Nothing bad, I hope." Freddy opened his mouth, but the man continued. "There's a few rules you four need to learn. That means you too, bunny." The rabbit, for the first time, joined the conversation. "Do you all see that clock? Right now it is 5:30 AM. At six, the first worker arrives. You all have to get in place by then."

"And where exactly are our places?" Freddy asked.

"You three stay up on that stage, and put on a show for the kids. You'll know the lyrics to their favorite little songs when the time comes." Freddy turned to his two compatriots.

"That would explain the instruments." The bear mumbled under its breath. The masked man turned to me.

"You have to stay in the back. Don't come out under any circumstances."

"What? Why?" I asked.

"You're not supposed to be turned on. If anyone sees you, they'll know something's wrong."

"So does that mean he can't walk around with us?" Chica asked.

"No. You three can't come off the stage during the days anyway. Mr. Foxy over there, can't leave Pirate Cove. These aren't my rules." The masked man explained.

"Fine," I said, "So what do I do back there all day?"

"Try not to be seen. If someone walks in, you stay hidden in the dark. Don't worry though, it's closed, so I can's see that as a problem." A silence fell over the group. "I know it seems unfair, but there are reasons things are this way. Get to your positions. I'll see you tonight, after the clean-up crew leaves around 11:00. Until then . . ." The man gave a slight bow. The darkness seemed to thicken around him, enveloping him. And then he was gone.

I turned to the crew on the stage. Freddy and Bonnie were getting into place, their instruments ready. Chica was still focused on me, a frown on her face. I smiled at her and left. I found my way back down to my cove. I entered through the doorway and the curtains fell closed behind me. Though, I could see in the dark, the sudden movement took me by surprise. I brandished my hook, but the masked man grabbed my arm.

"For the love of . . ." I caught my breath. "Stop sneaking up on me."

The man released my arm. "Sorry. Old habits die hard." Now, sitting in the silence, I got my first good look at the man's mask. Most of it was dirty white, with purple tears streamed down his face. The mouth curved into a smile.

"Why are you here?" I asked. He must have sensed a hint of anger in my voice.

"I came to apologize. I am sorry you are cooped up in here all day." He sighed. " There used to be a time when you were the biggest attraction in this place." The man glanced around the room. "So many children would line these seats to hear about Foxy the Pirate's amazing adventures. In this state, it's almost sad to see."

"What happened?" I asked, feeling an odd bit of sadness.

The man had his back to me, his head hung. He turned as if about to continue the conversation, but a loud ringing bell interrupted, signaling the arrival of morning. "We'll speak more another time. He opened the curtain, and was about to step through when he stopped. "You know," He led the curtain drop, leaving his last words echoing in the dark.

"You were always my favorite."


	2. Old Friends

The time passed slowly locked in the back room. I sat alone on my stage and listened to the other three in the main room, singing their cutesy little birthday songs. For such a young sounding girl, Chica sang with a beautiful voice. I laid on my back, eyes closed and listening to their songs. I didn't have a clock for reference, so I could only guess how long I'd been sitting here.

Half the room plunged into darkness as I flipped my eye patch up and down. I'd only recently realized that I could move it without touching it, as well as several other inconsequential discoveries.

The curtain of the cove drew open. As quietly as I could on the wooden stage I rolled on to my front , careful not to give myself away. A small endoskeleton sat in one of the farthest chairs.

Looking at the little hunk of metal, I felt angry. I don't know why, but in rose to my full height. A voice in my ear whispered the rules: _All endoskeletons must be inside a suit at all times. _I willingly obeyed, though something in this scenario felt . . . wrong. I stepped down off the stage. My long strides were across the room in a second. I reached out my hand, and grabbed the endoskeleton by the neck. The metal creäture began to squirm. I recoiled in surprise, dropping the metal skeleton. I blinked, and the metal figure was gone. In its place, a young, dark-haired child lay sprawled across the floor. My body froze in place.

The child let loose a shriek and scuttled away on all fours. My mind couldn't process the events taking place before me. Taking advantage of my paralysis, the child sprinted through the curtain, and out of the Cove.

Suddenly as it had come, the urge was gone. I dropped to my knees. My shoulders heaved, as if trying to catch my breath, though I had no need of it. Steeling myself, I climbed to my feet. I picked a metal object up off the ground. Gripping the dropped object in my hand, I studied it. As I researched the small flip phone, images of a large, blocky model flashed in my head. I headed toward the front of the room. I left the phone outside and closed the curtain.

I hopped up on the stage just in the nick of time. Light flooded into the room as the curtains pulled open. The boy had returned, along with an older man dressed in a janitors uniform. An employee, no doubt. I steeled myself as my optics began to glitch again. The voice returned, but I was ready, and fought against its influence.

"He was right here." The boy pointed to his seat. "I swear. He tried to kill me."

The janitor sighed. "Listen here, boy. Old Foxy here's been shut down for years. There's no possible way he could've attacked you. Besides," the old man crouched down and took the cellphone, "You aren't supposed to be back here anyway, the Pirates Cove's closed." Handing the child his phone, the employee ushered him out of the room.

Once the light vanished, I poked my head up from my hiding spot behind the stage. The small crevice between the stage and the wall, just large enough for me to cram into. I crawled out of the niche, but stepped into a flashlight beam. My body went numb.

"Foxy?" I turned slowly. The janitor stood in the center aisle, flashlight in hand. I couldn't see his face. "You know you nearly gave that child a heart attack." I remained still. If I revealed myself, I ran the risk of being shut down.

"Foxy, quit being coy. It's me, Jeremy."

"You . . . You know me?" I stuttered. I unlocked my stance, stepping toward the old man.

"Of course I remember you." His smile faded. "But it's clear you don't remember me. They must've knocked you head harder than I thought."

"I'm sorry, I don't remember." I explained.

"Yeah. I figured as much. You didn't attack me this time, though, so I suppose that's a start."

"I attacked you, too?"

The senior chuckled, taking a seat where the boy had been before. "Yeah, darn near tore my head off. You really don't remember anything?"

I shook my head.

"You might want to have someone fill you in, then." He said.

"What happened? What are you talking about?" I asked.

"My memories have faded over the years. You want the most accurate description, ask him." Jeremy shined his flashlight to my right. I turned to find the white and purple face of the Masked man from the previous night."

"You're memories may have gone, but your wits are as sharp as ever." The masked man said, striking past me."

"Why didn't you tell him what happened?" Jeremy pointed to me.

"Because that isn't him. A new tenant lives on that vacant lot now."

"You mean you got it to work?" Jeremy asked incredulously. "Impressive."

"It took a few tries, but I think I finally got it right."

"And the other three?" Jeremy motioned to the curtain at the front of the room.

"Yeah, them too." The Puppet dropped off the stage and leaned back against it, arms crossed.

"You'd never guess. They're good at their job." The Puppet nodded. "Even Foxy here's improved."

The Puppet turned to me. "If he were good, he wouldn't have gotten caught by a kid." I stepped back, rubbing the back of my neck in embarrassment.

Jeremy wave him off. "Give the guy a break. He's new to the gig, and has a damaged CPU to boot."

"I know," the Puppet sighed. "But if someone besides you'd caught him, he'd be scrap."

Jeremy fell silent for a while. I stood awkwardly in the center of the stage. The Puppet remained stoic as well. Finally, Jeremy stood to leave. "I'd better get back before I'm missed." He raised his cap to me and the Puppet. "Before I go, however, if have some news."

"Good or bad." I spoke up.

Jeremy thought for a second. "Couldn't say."

"What is it?" The Puppet pushed himself back to his feet.

"There's a new night guard. Or rather, they found one. The manager plans to have him start tomorrow."

"Son of a . . . Alright, we've still got one night, I'll have to teach them what to do."

"I hope you teach them well. Good bye, Foxy, and good luck." The janitor vanished through the curtain.

I stood for a moment, staring at the Puppet. "What does that mean?" He sighed through his mask.

"It means we've got work to do tonight."


	3. Talking in the Dark

"Why the hell is it so hard for you to give me a straight answer." I half shouted, half whispered. The Puppet tuned to face me. "Ever since I woke up here, I haven't gotten a single clear answer."

Something inside me knew I shouldn't be mad at this guy, but the frustration of missing memories overwhelmed it.

"I know, but I can't tell you." I couldn't read the look on his face, and his voice remained just as anonymous.

"Why not?" I swiped my claw angrily through the air.

"Knowledge is power. Power is dangerous."

"What the hell does that mean?" I stormed up to him. At my full height, I rose almost two feet higher than him. "Dangerous for who? You or me?"

"Both of us."

I shook my head. "Who was that guy? The janitor? How does he know me? What happened here? What did he mean when he called my damaged?"

The Puppet didn't move. I could hear him sigh, but there was no heave of his chest. "I will come for you tonight."

"What about the security guard?" I screamed down at him, ignoring his comment. "Who is that?"

In return, he ignored me. "We have one more night to learn the rules. I hope you learn quick." The shadows of the room converged on him, blocking out his form with darkness even I couldn't see in. When it cleared, he was gone.

I could feel an odd mix of rage and confusion in my head. Ideas buzzed around inside, only adding more fuel to the fire. Finally, I couldn't take it, and just sat myself down at the edge of the stage. I couldn't say how long I sat there.

Eventually, I gave up trying to figure out the Puppet's riddles. Sighing, I climbed backward up onto the stage. Outside, I could still hear the sounds of parties dying out as more people left. My estimates would put it around five or six o'clock. I tried to drown them out be focusing on my heavy, thudding footsteps.

The floor emitted a hollow ring as my metal foot crashed down on a loose plank. Stepping off to the side of the plank, I bent down and inspected the floor. A dug my hook under the plank and pulled. A hidden trap door flipped upward. Despite the obvious years of wear-and-tear, the door produced no sound. I dropped into the small opening, and into a dusty storeroom of sorts.

The room covered the entire space underneath the stage. Old wooden shelves covered with little more than a thick layer of dust lined every side of the room. My foot clanked agains the stone floor as I inspected my new discovery. The place had obviously been cleaned out years ago.

"We need to talk." I spun around as fast as I could. My legs stumbled and I crashed backward into the shelves. The Puppet stood at the edge of the room.

"You've got to stop appearing like that. You're going to give me a heart attack," I complained.

"I don't think that's actually possible." The Puppet corrected.

I waved my hook at him. "You know full well what I mean. Now, why are you here?"

"As I said, we need to talk."

"Oh, so now you feel like talking. Finally ready to answer my questions?"

"Shut up and listen." I couldn't hear anger in his voice, but I felt it must've been there somewhere. "The night guard is arriving earlier than expected. Turns out he'll be here tonight. Or more exactly, about half an hour from now. The place has closed down for the night, and the crew are cleaning up."

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked.

"Simple. I need you to stay out of sight."

"You've kept me locked up back here all day. Why?" I stepped closer to the shadow.

"Foxy, you've been shut down for over a decade now." The shadow floated by me. "The other three are allowed to move around at night, but if the guard catches you, you'll be in trouble."

"Why was I-?"

"I said shut up and listen. Failsafes in your CPU won't allow you to be shut down for longer than twelve hours, as by then, your servos will lock, and your designers didn't want to deal with that." I had learned my lesson, and stayed quiet. "They don't know you're back up and running. If they find out, they might find another way to disable you."

"So, basically just stay back here like I've done all day?"

"Not quite. There is a camera in the Cove. No one watches them during the day, and the cameras don't record, so you're safe during the day. At night, though, the guard watches through the cameras."

"And he'll see me?" I suggested. The Puppet nodded quickly. "Good thing I found this place then." I said, motioning to the room around me."

"Yes. You will also find that I've closed the curtains on stage. The camera is over by the door, so if you stay behind the curtain, he can't see you."

"Well, that's just great." I said sarcastically. "So, now will you answer some of my questions?"

"Foxy? Who're your talking to?" I looked up at the trapdoor. Chica crouched at the edge of the drop.

I turned back to the Puppet, but he was already gone. "Nobody, I guess." Chica raised an eyebrow. "Hold on a second." She stepped back from the edge, and my hook embedded into the wood. I pulled myself up and out onto the stage.

"Sorry about that." I apologized, rubbing the back of my neck. "What's up?"

"Nothing. The cleaning crew just left, and I thought you might be lonely back here."

"Shouldn't you be back on stage before the guard gets here?" I asked, pushing through the newly closed curtains and sitting down at the edge of the stage with Chica.

"Me and the others are left in a 'free roam' at night, apparently. We're allowed to walk around. I would assume since the puppet talked up to you separately, you have different rules."

"You would assume correctly," I sighed. "I can't leave the stage." I nodded back at the curtains.

"That sucks." She whispered.

"Yeah." I agreed. "I heard you guys singing out there today."

"What'd you think?"

I thought for a moment. "You were pretty good."

"Aww . . . Thanks." She laid back on the stage, staring up at the ceiling. "Those songs are catchy, but they're so annoying."

"They're not that bad." I offered.

"They're dreadful. You don't have to sing them all day." She laughed.

"I suppose not." I leaned back, propping myself up with my arms.

"So, what have you been doing back here all day?" She asked.

"Not much to do. Usually just standing or laying around. I found that room back there, today." I thought it best to leave out the incident with the kid.

"That sounds . . . fun?"

"Not really. I did find out a few thing, though."

"Like what?"

"Watch this." She sat up and looked at me. _Yeargh, matey. I'm Foxy the Pirate, the most feared on the seven seas._" I could see her trying to hole back a laugh. "Awesome, right?"

She burst out laughing. "That's amazing."

I smiled and then I started laughing too. My laugh was interrupted by a high pitched yip. Chica stopped laughing and just stared at me wordlessly.

"What was that?" Another fit of laughter. I hadn't even noticed that I had made the noise until she pointed it out. "How did you do that?"

"I think it was supposed to be a fox. Didn't know I could do that."

"I didn't even know we could change our voice."

"Yeah." The laughter faded into silence. I looked wordlessly at my animatronic counterpart. She had her eyes close, humming a soft tune I didn't recognize. Something about her in the low light made me feel . . . strange.

"Chica, I-"

My words were interrupted by the ding of a bell as the front door burst open.


	4. Night One

I peeked out through the curtains that filled Pirate's Cove. I could see the security camera the Puppet had told me about. Occasionally, the red light would flicker on. I made sure that at least most of me remained out of sight. I closed the curtains again. I tried as best as I could to be quiet as I dropped into my little crawl space under the stage. Chica had waved goodbye and left as soon as the coast was clear. We had heard the guard around the corner, fumbling around with the electronics in the security booth at the end of the hallway. I gently closed the trapdoor behind me. Now, I had time to inspect my little secret.

The shelves all around the room were covered in dust. The place must've been emptied a long time ago. Still, it couldn't hurt to look. I made several trips around the room, inspecting the dark creases. Nothing. I sighed, already bored. I closed my eyes and sat myself down on the hard ground; eyes closed and back leaned up against the shelves.

"It's not too fun, I know." I didn't jump this time as the Puppet materialized from a shadowy corner. He trudged over and sat opposite me.

"I'm sorry, for earlier." I hung my head.

"You don't need to be. I know what it's like. I wasn't too happy about the lack of answers at the beginning either."

"But you did you figure it out?"

"Eventually. It took a long time to learn all the ins and outs of this place. All the little details of life here."

"So why won't you tell me?"

He hesitated. The silence between us had evolved from angered, and now felt more tired. Time had worn him down, but his revolve was strong. I could see that now. "I meant what I said earlier. The truth is dangerous. If you know too much, it could hurt you. I don't want to lose anymore."

I opened my eyes. The Puppet's head hung low. For the first time, I could feel a sense of emotion from him. I could feel sadness.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You don't even know what I'm talking about."

"Doesn't change the fact that I'm still sorry. I don't know much about you . . ." I pulled on the shelves and rose to my feet. "But I do know you're still one of us." I offered a hand to the sad figure. He looked up at me. Even without eyes, I could feel his gaze on me. He wrapped a black hand around mine and let me pull him to his feet.

"I don't really know what I am, to be honest."

"Welcome to the club." I chuckled. "We'll have to work together to figure it out, then." A grief silence followed. For a split second, I thought I could hear scratching in the walls.

"Thank you, Foxy."

"Before you go, can I ask you one thing?"

"I'll answer if I can."

"I was human before, wasn't I?" The silence was all the answer I needed. "Why can't I recognize humans? Can you tell me that?"

"That's not a part of your history. That belongs to Foxy. You already know what you are, so I see no harm in revealing that to you. Foxy attacked a man. I believe you met him. The old night guard? Jeremy?"

"I thought I recognized him." I remembered.

"Foxy attacked him. Nearly tore his head off."

I stepped back. "Why?"

"Can't really say." He shrugged. "I didn't see the whole thing. You didn't do it. This was long before you came around here."

"Exactly how long?" I asked.

"I don't know. They tried to pry you off. I think one of them damaged your CPU. Screwed with your optics."

"That's why they shut me down?" The Puppet nodded. "Who is the Night Guard? What happened to the old one?"

"I don't know his name. The old one . . . He took the day shift." The Puppet stepped into the shadows. The darkness began to swirl, but he didn't disappear yet. "Foxy. It's incredibly important that you aren't seen by the guard. You understand that?"

"I think so." I rubbed the back of my neck.

"Check the shelves. I left you a gift." The darkness closed around him, and he vanished.

I looked back to the shelves where the Puppet had been sitting. Crouching as low as my metal limbs would allow, I searched the bottom shelves. I'd already checked here in my first search, but I had apparently misses the small glimmer of light at the back. I stretched my arm as far as I could. My fingers scraped at the edge of the metallic object. I relaxed for a moment, and then gave one final lunge.

The object slid closer, and I wrapped my fingers around it. Straightening up, I inspected the small brass pocket watch. Hesitantly, my finger twitched against the top button, flipping open the case. A small ivory clock face worked as a backdrop for two ticking black hands. Five thirty. I chuckled and clipped the brass chain to the back of my belt. A pocket watch would certainly come in handy.

I climbed up and out of the hold. Slowly, I pulled the curtains open. The light on the camera was off. Taking a deep breath, I stepped off the stage and through the doorway out into the hall. I stumbled back in surprise. Bonnie stood in the doorway opposite me, his eyes locked on mine.

"Sonuva . . . Don't do that to me." I whispered angrily. Bonnie stepped backward into a door marked "Backstage". I watched him vanish into the room before shaking my head.

My attention turned to the end of the hallway, where a light flooded out of the security booth and into the dark hallway. I could see a shadow against the back wall of the booth. Whatever was in there, it had an odd shape. Human, but much more massive. The shadow's limbs moved jittery and irregularly. I considered moving closer for a better look. Suddenly, the camera at the end of the hallway activated, its little red light contrasting perfectly against the darkness. With a start, I moved as quickly as I could, back into the Cove, and back up onto the stage. I spared one last look at the camera. The light was still off, but I don't want to risk it anymore.

I leaned back against the ocean landscape painted on the back of the cove. I closed my eyes. I checked my pocket watch. Six. From the front room, I could hear the clock's dull ring, signaling the new hour. Shortly after, I heard footsteps sprinting down the hallway. I didn't really care about them, though. Only one thought raced around my mind:

I'd survived night one.


	5. Daytime

"What on earth were you thinking?" I lay, face down on the stage, listening intently to the voices in the other room. "I gave you very specific rules. Don't approach the guard. So, the first thing you do is to attack him?" The Puppet's voice grew louder with each word. I sat up and put a hand on my forehead. I had, at most, fifteen minutes before he came in and gave me an even bigger piece of his mind. They weren't supposed to approach him, but I wasn't even supposed to be seen. Definitely screwed up that one.

"We didn't attack him." Chica said, her voice on the edge of tears. "We just wanted to get a closer look."

"I don't want to hear excuses. No matter what you _though_ you were doing, it only matters what the guard thinks you did. And I don't think he took the time to think about your motives."

"I'm sorry." Chica broke into tearless sobs. I'd had enough.

I left the Cove, headed for the front stage. The Puppet and Freddy were standing side by side on the stage, looking down at Chica, curled into a ball and sobbing into her knees. Bonnie sat motionless at the back of the stage. The only indication of consciousness was the gaze shifting uncomfortably.

"I don't want to have to yell-"

"Then don't." The Puppet turned to look at me. I walked nonchalantly, my hand and hook pressed against the nape of my neck. "Give her a break."

"You're in no position to talk here, Foxy. I'll deal with you shortly."

"No, you're going to deal with me now." Taking a running start, I leaped up to the stage. "Before you deal with her."

The Puppet shook his head. "You don't understand. This is for your own good."

"You seem to be saying that a lot lately. Take a look at her." I outstretched a hand, palm up, toward Chica. "You've reduced her to tears. How exactly is that for her own good?" I could feel heat building in my chest.

"Because," the Puppet said, taking a long stride toward me. "That guard has power over all of you. You may not realize it, but he has the power to shut this place down, if he wanted to." Chica sniffled, looking up her two persecutors.

"What do you mean?" I asked, taking up a position in front of Chica.

"If that guard reports unusual activity, such as attacking animatronics, or, heaven forbid, a _shut down_ animatronic roaming the halls, then they shut this place down."

"You think someone will believe him?" I asked.

"Why not." The puppet's emotionless eye sockets locked on me. "They all know that you tried to kill a man before." An awkward silence filled the room. I stepped back and lowered my gaze, forgetting my challenge to the Puppet. With a start, he realized what he'd said. "Foxy . . . I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"Just shut the hell up!" All eyes in the room, even Bonnie, turned to stare at the small chicken on the stage. Chica pushed herself up to her feet. "Just because you brought us here doesn't mean you get to push us around like this." Chica pushed past me, advancing on the Puppet. With fearful trembling, he staggered backward, but Chica kept with him, waving her arms madly. "You haven't explained a damned thing to us, and you expect us to just go along with whatever you say. Why should we trust you? Why are you keeping us in the dark?" Chica stalled her advance at the edge of the stage. "What are we to you? Pets? Friends? A damned entertainment show for you? What is your problem?" Another, even longer gap of silence, filled only with the sound of Chica, panting in anger.

"Wow." Freddy remarked, raising an eyebrow.

With a look of pure terror, Chica realized what she'd done. She back pedaled fearfully, tripping over her own feet. I broke through my shock and lunged forward, grabbing her before she could hit the ground.

"What was that?" I asked incredulously.

"I don't . . . I . . ." She stammered.

I looked expectantly at the Puppet. He'd recovered his calm state, with his hands folded behind his back. "Very well." The Puppet said calmly. "I think we may both have overreacted."

"You think?" Freddy asked.

The Puppet cast a glance in his direction. Freddy raised his hands in surrender. "I promise that I have only the best intentions for all of you. It's my job to keep you all safe. I need you to understand that. You are all my family now, and I have to protect you until you're able to protect yourself. That was why I gave you those rules."

"I know." Chica added, her head hung low. "I'm sorry for that."

"Well, how about one big group hug?" Freddy asked sarcastically.

I shook my head. "I don't think so."

"Well. The morning shift should be here momentarily. Foxy and I must take or leave now." The puppet headed for the shadows in the corner of the stage. I headed for the end of of the stage and back to the Cove. "I do care for all of you. Please be safe." The Puppet finished before vanishing.

Back in the Cove, I climbed up to my stage. I brushed a tuft of hair out of my eyes with my hook, while my hand took the pocket watch in my back pocket. Seven. Someone seemed to be running late. In the corner of the watch's glass, I saw a flash of yellow.

"Hey." Chica said, ducking under the curtain. "Do you have a second to talk?"

"Yeah, but do you?" I asked, hopping up onto the end of the stage. "Isn't the place going to open soon?"

"We've still got about an hour. We're still allowed to roam free until the first customer arrives." She took her seat next to me.

"Well, what's up?" I asked, leaning back.

"I feel kind of bad." She leaned back, but kept herself propped up on her elbows.

"Let me guess. The Puppet?"

"No, for you." She kicked out her legs. "Cooped up here all day, nothing to do. Even at night."

"It's not as bad as it sounds." I said, waving her off.

"It's still unfair."

I shrugged her off. "I don't really care. It really isn't that bad."

"Why are you stuck back here?" She asked.

I frowned, though I'm not sure it reflected in my appearance. "The Puppet told me that I attacked a man. That's why I was shut down."

"You attacked a man?" Chica exclaimed. A part of me expected her to back away slowly, but she didn't. Instead, she turned onto her side and stared at me. "Why?"

"I couldn't say. I . . . I don't remember." I lied.

"You don't remember? Or you never did? Did Foxy attack him?" She asked skeptically.

"I am Foxy." I shrugged.

"You weren't always, though." She put a hand on my arm. "I know we were human before. I can't explain how I know, but I know it."

I sighed. "Yeah. We were . . ." I trailed off.

"Yeah?" Chica asked, waiting for me to finish the thought.

"What if . . . What if we were killed?" I finally whispered.

"Makes sense." Chica thought out loud. "I keep seeing these images in my head. Like watching a badly edited movie. The scenes are blurred, but I could make out the voice of a little girl, screaming. What if that was me? Has anything like that happened to you?"

"No." I shook my head. "I knew I was human before, but I don't know what happened. The only theory I have is that the animatronics killed us."

"The anima . . . You mean us?" Chica shot up.

"Think about it. Something linked us to this place, otherwise we wouldn't be here, right?" Chica nodded absently, running over the facts in her mind. "And, I know Foxy has attacked people before, but . . . Do you think he killed us? Did I kill us?"

Chica didn't answer right away. She lay back down on the stage, analyzing her thoughts. "I don't think so."

"What makes you say that. He nearly killed a man. And that's only that I know of. He's able to kill."

"Whether your body killed us before or not, it doesn't matter." She put a hand on my shoulder. I turned to face her. "You're not the same person you were before. Maybe the Foxy animatronic killed us, maybe it didn't but one thing is absolutely sure. You didn't kill us."

I closed my eyes and hung my head. "But-" Chica threw her arms around me, interrupting my thought. "What?"

"You didn't kill us? Okay? You couldn't have." To my surprise, her voice sounded on the edge of tears. "Tell me that you didn't do it."

For the first time since I'd woken up here, I felt a bead of warmth inside. "Alright, Chica. I didn't do it." She let go of me. She had a smile on her face. "But something did. I know that much. There's so many things I just can't figure out. So many missing pieces."

"You could ask the Puppet?" She suggested.

I shook my head. "He refuses to give me a straight answer. Foxy and Bonnie probably wouldn't know too much either." I thought back to the previous night, Bonnie outside the Cove.

"So how are you going to figure it out?"

"I can only think of one other person who might know."

"Who?"

I reconsidered for a moment, but I couldn't see any other options. "I'm going to have a little talk with the Night Guard."


	6. The Best Laid Plans

"The Night Guard?" Chica asked.

"Yeah." I answered. "Think about it. He's the only one I can talk to about this. If I ask anyone else, he couldn't tell me."

"What about the old night guard, Jimmy, or whatever his name is?" Chica suggested.

"I can't go find him during the day. Besides, he's a friend of the Puppet, I don't think he'd tell me anything."

"So you're going to go after the Night Guard." She rubbed her forehead. "Then I guess I'd better help you."

"What?"

"You're not going to be able to do it by yourself, so I guess I'd better help you."

"You'd do that?" I asked.

"Of course," she said, placing a hand on my shoulder. "I don't think I could stand not knowing either. So I'm going to help you figure it out."

I smiled. "Thanks, Chica."

She nodded. "Now, that security booth in the back has a few security measures you're going to have to get past: First is the cameras, then the doors, and finally, you'll have to deal with the Night Guard himself."

"How do you know all of this?" I asked, jumping down from the stage.

"I may or may not have gone out for a little sneak peek, myself. I'm allowed to roam at night, remember?"

"Right." I scratched the back of my head.

Chica hopped down off the stage after me. I flipped open my watch. Seven twenty. I snapped it shut and replaced it in my pocket.

"First is the cameras." Chica repeated. "Now, I was watching him last night. Apparently, his camera can only see one room at a time. Which means that the rest of his cameras should be off.

"I think Bonnie might fulfill that requirement," I interrupted. She perked her ears, listening. "I tried to get out of the Cove last night, and ran into him, right outside the door. I could see that working as a functional distraction."

"Good. I'll have a chat with him; convince him to help us." Chica nodded.

"Think you can talk to him? I thought he couldn't talk?"

"I don't think he can speak, but he seems to notice whenever we speak to him."

I shrugged. "Then that should work."

"Okay, next, the doors. He has a door on each side, as far as I can tell. They're activated by a switch on either side of the room. I should be able to handle that one. If I can keep his attention at one door, you might be able to slip in through the other side." She tilted her head to the side.

"That sounds like it could work. Think he'll fall for it thought?"

"I pretty sure this guy is terrified of us. Did you hear him screaming last night? I think if one of us tried to attack him, he'll notice it, definitely."

"That's two defenses down." I said. "And I think I can handle the guard. He looks pretty big, but . . ." I raised by hook and slashed at the air. Chica frowned. "I won't actually have to hurt him. If he's as afraid of us as you say, he should settle down quickly."

"Let's hope so." Chica agreed.

"But what about the Puppet?" I asked. "He's not going to let us off the hook for something like this."

I could see her eyes narrow. "If he has a problem with this, he can burn in hell. If he's not going to tell us anything, then we're going to figure it out. Without him." I raised an eyebrow.

With a start, she covered her mouth. "Did I just say that?"

"Yeah," I answered, incredulously. "Yeah, you did."

"I'm sorry." She said, cowering. "I'm just sick of this. Of not knowing."

"There's nothing to apologize for. I'm with you on that. If he wants to keep us locked in the dark, we have to find another way out." I climbed back up on the stage. "If he does say something, I'll handle him, okay?" Chica nodded hesitantly.

"Foxy, just . . . Make me a promise."

"What's that?"

Chica remained quiet for a long while. From the confused look on her face, I would've guessed she couldn't decide how to phrase her next sentence. "If you learn something . . . About your past, about who you were . . ." She stopped.

"Yeah?" I offered.

"Don't change." She finished.

"What do you mean?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"No matter what you learn, just stay Foxy, okay?" Her mouth curved into a sad smile. "I don't want to lose you."

I opened my mouth to answer, but stopped myself. My mind processed her request, but had no answer to give.

"Foxy, promise me, or this doesn't happen." Her voice trembled. She threw her arms around me. Her head only reached up to my chest, but she still seemed to make me stumble.

"I promise. I swear that I won't leave you, Chica, no matter what." I lifted her chin until her eyes met mine, and smiled. "I promise you that."

"Then I'll hold you to that." She squeezed me one last time. With a wave goodbye, she hurried out of the room.

I scratched the back of my ear. That feeling in my chest didn't fade when she left this time. Keeping the smile on my lips, I heaved up onto the stage and closed the curtains, cutting off the light that filtered in from the hallway outside the Cove. I opened my trapdoor and dropped down, closing it after me. I shuffled over to the corner and dropped to the ground. I rolled onto my back and locked my hand and hook behind my head, careful not to cut myself. I thought about our plan, making sure that everything would work, but was interrupted by a loud footstep on the stage.

"Foxy, you here?" I recognized the voice as Freddy.

I rose to my feet and brushed the dust off my shorts. I opened the trapdoor to find Freddy standing at the edge of the stage.

"You rang." I started.

"I need to talk to you." He said, glancing of to the side.

I waited a few silent moment. "Well, what is it?"

He sniffed the air. "I wanted to thank you for standing up for my sister, earlier."

"Oh. Uhh . . . thanks, Freddy."

"I guess it just didn't occur to me that we were being so hard on her. I don't want her to get hurt, but she doesn't want to listen to me." He closed his eyes and rubbed his head. "Anyway, I just wanted to thank you." he finished.

"It's no problem, honestly." I chuckled.

Freddy looked around the room. He studied the mural painted on the back concrete wall: a pirate ship on a sunny ocean voyage. I knew the painting by heart. "What do you do back here all day?"

"Sit, stand, sometime I even lay down." I joked.

"Sounds like it sucks." Freddy added, scrunching his forehead.

"Ehh . . ." I shrugged. "Better than being dead."

"If you say so." Freddy didn't take his eyes of the mural.

"So is that all?" I asked.

"Yeah." He shook his head, breaking his concentration. "Thanks for your help. I guess I'll see you later then."

"Alright, see you then." With a slight nod, he turned and left through the curtains at the edge of the stage.

With the interruption over, I closed the hatch and resumed my placement in the corner. My eyes closed slowly, cutting out my vision completely. I just lay quiet, listening to the world around me. My eyes fluttered open and I jumped to my feet. I closed my eyes and listened again.

I could hear feverish scratching in the walls, and moans from somewhere beyond the stone room.


	7. Damaged Goods

I sat up, startled by the sound of the ringing bell hanging above the front door. I could hear sprinting footsteps on the other side of the Cove wall, the night guard, sprinting in terror to his little guard post. He wouldn't be safe tonight, I'd make sure of that. I didn't want to hurt the poor guy, but I needed to know what happened.

"Foxy." I turned toward the whispered shout. At the front of the Cove, Chica was waving at me. "Foxy, are you ready?" She asked. The camera over her head glowed red, casting a crimson light over her. I didn't care if the guard saw me. He'd know I was here sooner or later. Besides, he'd only be able to see my eyes hidden behind the Cove curtain.

"You sure you want to do this?" Chica called, worriedly.

"Yes." I paused. "Are you?"

She nodded readily in response. "You remember the plan? When I've gone, wait ten seconds, and them I want you to count to ten, and run. I don't think you'll have that much of a gap in between, so go fast."

"I know." With a defiant nod, the chicken turned to leave. I stopped her. "Chica." She turned at the sound of her own name. "Whatever happens, be careful, alright?"

"Of course." She smiled. "You promise me you'll be safe too, alright?" With the grin still on her beak, she slipped out into the hallway.

I closed my eyes and shook my head. In my head, I began to call out the numbers. _One . . . Two . . . Three . . . Four . . . Five._

I heard a childlike shriek echo through the pizzeria. She moved much faster than I thought she would. I hopped off the stage and bounded into the hallway, my claws tearing at the carpet. Light still poured from the open door of the security booth. My robotic legs creaked, not used to such quick and rigorous movement. By the time I'd reached the booth, the security guard was reaching for the button, closing the door on Chica, who stood at the opposite window. He noticed me a split second too late. He reached for the button to seal the door, but I arrived before the door could lock closed. I tore through the doorway and froze. The two of us locked gazes.

The security guard balled up in his chair, his knees tucked close to his chest. A laptop sat on the wooden desk in the center of the room, between he and I. His eyes filled with terror at the sight of my decaying mechanical body. He tore the laptop from the desk and kicked off, his chair rolling to the back of the room, while simultaneously knocking the desk toward me. I dug my hook into the wood and tossed it haphazardly aside. I stalked closer, my feet clacking softly against the tiled floor. His back hit the concrete wall.

My vision grew fuzzy. The Night Guard faded in and out of existence. His eyes glowed with a beady white light. His jaw, a metal trap. Staring at the sight made my head split. It was almost as of watching a TV show through static, the two realities occupying the same space. I pressed my metal hand against the back of my skull. The circuits felt like they were burning out.

"Enough." I screamed, lashing out with my hook. The metal buried itself into the stone, mere inches from the young man's sweaty cap. I gritted my teeth together. The metal skeleton smiled, as if taunting me.

"Wipe that damned grin off your face." An animal growl emigrated from my throat. My metal fist slammed into the wall, leaving a crater in the stone. I leaned in close, my dirty fangs caught the guard's attention. I fought the urge to kill him, but its grip overcame my defenses. The voice vibrating the back of my metal skull grew louder and louder, just as it had with the boy back in the Cove that first morning.

"Protect yourself." I grunted with my last few seconds of control. The Night Guard phased back into existence. His eyes widened with fear when I tore my hook from the wall. I could feel regret in my heart. A young man, so innocent, and yet here I was, ready to gut him like a dying fish. Maybe if I had listened to the Puppet, I could've avoided this. The Guard could've survived.

Suddenly, my opponent's eyes changed. The fear shifted into an odd mixture of determination and panic. Gripping the laptop firmly, he swung forward with every ounce of force his muscular body could muster.

The hard plastic case of the computer cracked against my skull, but worked its job effectively enough. I felt my limbs go limp as my CPU triggered a shutdown. He swung the computer again. This time, the swing knocked me off my feet, and sent me sprawling to the side, crashing into the wall beside the door. He swung his weapon again and again, raining plastic splinters across the room with each swing.

The animatronic skeleton faded from my sight. I felt alone in my mind again as the robotic voice faded. The landscape swirled around me. One final, adrenaline-fueled strike shattered the computer, and I fell to the side, my head slamming against the floor. The terrified Guard drove his heel into my temple, breaking the metal casing.

The room blackened as the generator sputtered and died. I could see the two electronic doors slide open. The Guard glanced around with renewed panic. With an oddly comforting ring, the clock signaled the arrival of dawn. He turned and tore out of the room, passing right by Freddy in the doorway. The bear made no effort to stop the man. Instead, he simply stared at me.

"Foxy." Chica slipped through the open door and crouched over me, inspecting my grotesquely mangled body. Her color was off, like a greenish sort of yellow. Over her shoulder, I could still see Freddy. His fur, like Chica's, looked discolored. His warm brown had become a dirty gold. I opened my mouth to speak, but my word melted into an incoherent whine. I noticed that the Freddy had no eyes. In fact, the suit almost seemed to hang limp in the air, but I couldn't be sure.

"Freddy, Bonnie, Puppet. Anyone, please help me!" Chica called, pulling me close. Her voice sounded as close to tears as an animatronic could sound. The golden Freddy turned and walked off. As my vision faded to black, I could hear the Puppet and Freddy rush in. The rest of the night is missing from my memory.

When I opened my eyes, I wasn't in the security booth, but the main dining room. The lights were on, and sunlight was streaming in from outside. My vision still suffered, but the pictures became more clear as I grew used to the light. Up on stage, I saw Bonnie, Chica, and Freddy, performing for the mass of pizza-eating patrons.

"Are you alright, Honey?" I turned, finally realizing the words were meant for me. In the chair beside me, a young and beautiful brunette woman looked at me, concerned. The lone word that erupted from my mouth seemed to do so involuntarily:

"Mom?"


	8. It's time to wake up

"Come on, Foxy, Hold on." Chica's voice fluttered through the air. The restaurant in my dreams, and the beautiful woman shifted and phased, finally giving away to darkness.

"I'm doing the best I can. Give me some space." I didn't recognize this voice. A man's, definitely, but not Freddy or The Puppet. It could've been Bonnie.

"Well, you'd better do better. He doesn't wake up, neither do you." Freddy. I knew that voice. Suddenly, the room lit up. When I opened my eyes, I found myself staring into a blinding light.

"His eyes opened." Chica shouted, a note of relief in her voice.

"See, I told you I could to it." The mysterious voice said triumphantly. I could see shadowy outlines in the corner of my eyes, but I couldn't focus with the light in my eyes.

"Shut that thing off, will you?" I pleaded sadly.

"Right." The light swiveled away to the corner. The color of the world returned. Chica and Freddy were standing on either side of me. I recognized the face of the Night Guard standing back, a flashlight in his hands, the source of the unknown voice. Bonnie stood next to him. I couldn't see the Puppet, but I guessed he'd be hiding in the shadows.

"Foxy, are you okay." Chica knelt down beside me, her hand supporting my head. I blinked a couple times and tried to sit up. My body felt stiff; I could hear my metal bones creaking and creaking as I moved.

"I think so." I said, flexing my hand. "What happened.

"Yeah, what happened?" Freddy grabbed the scampering Night Guard by the arm and dragged him over to me. "How about both of you start explaining?"

"Look, all I know is that this fox thing attacked me." My memories came back slowly. The plan, my fight with the guard, and me losing badly.

"Freddy, it's my fault." Chica stepped between the bear and the guard.

"Chica, you know the rules. What did we tell you?"

"Can it, Freddy, this one's on me." I stood slowly, loosening my joints. "How about you let me and him have a chat to fill in the gaps in memory." I nodded to the guard. Freddy grunted angrily, but made no effort to stop us.

"I attacked you, didn't I?" I asked the terrified guard. He was sitting with his back against the wall, his knees pulled close, the same as he'd been in the security booth. "I'm sorry, I lost control." The man looked at me, only slightly reassured. I offered a hand, but his gaze focused on my hook.

"What are you?" He asked through chattering teeth.

"I don't know." I closed my eyes. "That's why I need your help."

The guard gave an uncomfortable glance upward at me, but outstretched a shaking hand. He pulled away at the touch of the cold metal, but recovered from his shock and reached out again. I pulled him up to his feet.

"So you guys aren't going to stuff me in suit?" He asked.

"Not unless you misbehave." Freddy threatened. The guard's determination wavered, but held strong.

"Alright. I doubt that I know much more than you guys."

"We know less than you'd think." I shrugged.

The scrawny Night Guard scratched his scraggly beard. "I think you guys are ghosts, right? Ghosts of the five children who died here? At least, that's my theory."

"Ghosts?" Chica asked, her voice trembling. "Like, as in we're dead?"

The night guard shrugged harmlessly. "Yeah. I was reading up on this place. Apparently, a group of five kids died here. Murdered."

"Murdered?" Chica sounded almost in tears.

"Yeah, I figured something like that." I whispered, shaking my head.

"How'd you figure that?" Freddy asked, his rage undercut by the sucker punch he felt in his gut at the moment.

"When I was unconscious, I saw . . . Something. It looked like the pizzeria, but in a lot better shape. I saw you three on stage, singing. I could see daylight through the windows."

The room fell silent for a short time. "Why should we believe this?" Freddy asked, his shock simply piling on top of the returning fury. "What the hell do you know?" Freddy asked, stepping threateningly toward the human. I stepped between them, but another figure stepped in in front of me.

"He knows more than you. How's that for a reason." The puppet stood in the middle of the room, his dark form bringing the debate to a screeching halt.

"So what? We're dead? That's the explanation?" Freddy roared.

"Shut up and listen," The Puppet commanded. "I suppose you all deserve the truth." The puppet's slender hand motioned to the seats by the cove. We all sat down or stood against the wall. The puppet took his place on the stage readying to speak.

"What this man says is true. You are all deceased."

I could feel the palpable silence in the air. Glancing around, I could see each one of the others, staring down at their bodies. They didn't understand. How could they? They hadn't seen what I'd seen. They hadn't seen my mother sitting beside me. To feel her hand rustle through my hair.

"I think it's best if you leave us be." The puppet finally whispered. The security guard took one final look around before scurrying out of the restaurant.

"So . . . that's it?" Chica asked. She put her head in her hands and made a sound like a mechanical sobbing. Freddy just looked down at his hands. They shook violently, but noiselessly.

"I had hoped to keep this from you. But it appears I no longer have any choice in the matter." The puppet said.

"So what?" I rose from my chair, my hands at my side. Only Bonnie and the Puppet looked up at me. "We're dead. Is that it? Do we just sit down and wait for the world to end?"

"What else is there?" Chica asked through a break in her sorrow.

I opened my mouth to answer, but I couldn't find the words. I looked to the puppet, but he just shook his head. "We . . . we make sure this never happens again. We keep the children safe." I sounded about as clueless and unenthusiastic as I felt. Somewhere in the building, the clock chimed, signaling the approaching dawn.

"I'm afraid we're out of time for tonight." The puppet said morosely. "Return to your places for the morning."

"What's the point." Freddy cried. Despite the burly form and tough demeanor, his voice sounded like that of a crying child. He started to breathe heavy.

"That's not something I can tell you." The puppet jumped down from the stage. I followed after him, leaving the other three behind. He led me back to the security office. The room had been cleaned since I'd been here last. The puppet swept into the room, me close in tow. After a moment of thought, he reached down and picked the small brass security badge up off the table. The sight of the small shield almost hurt.

"We need your help." I whispered, trying to hide the absolute hopelessness in the words.

"I told you, I can't help you. I couldn't help any of you." He looked down at the metal in his hands. With one violent motion, he crushed the security badge and held it close to his chest. I stepped back, away from the shaking machine. "Don't you get it." He said, on the verge of tears. His dark form ebbed away, leaving me standing alone with his final, echoing words.

"I can't save you."


End file.
